


Sweet, Like Tennessee Honey

by HandsAcrossTheSea



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blowjobs, Bottom Dean, Come Eating, Come Fetish, Facials, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Sex Pollen, Top Sam, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 23:25:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7821379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsAcrossTheSea/pseuds/HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets hit with something that sends his body into sexual overdrive.</p>
<p>Dean... enjoys it far too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet, Like Tennessee Honey

**Author's Note:**

> Hi ho the derry-o, I'm dipping into Wincest again. This fic went through about twenty different iterations before I finally settled on Sam and Dean, so be glad for that I guess? That being said - I am rusty with these two, so forgive me if this isn't the finest example of my work. SPN is a fandom I don't touch anymore but part of me is always going to harbor feelings for these to - especially when they're dicking each other. And yes I ripped the title from B0RNS - that's been my jam all summer long tbh.

 Sam hates witches.  Out of the monsters they kill, they easily take the top spot on the list of “things that are awful.” God may have created everything, but what the  _ hell  _ was his reasoning in making this demon spawn - amusement?

 

They killed the next the last of the coven the day before last, after the collective four had cursed a hundred different women to give birth to - of all things - more witches.  Something about “speeding along their heritage.” Whatever. It's fucked up reasoning, however they decided to spin it.  Dean had been even more creeped out than Sam, and there isn't a whole lot that terrifies his brother.  Well, one thing - and that's losing Sam.  But they don't talk about that.  There's no need, since it's happened a couple times now.  Nowadays, Sam just wanted considers it a hazard of the job.

 

“This sucks.” Dean's two steps ahead of him, pistol loaded with special witch-killing bullets and his flashlight at the ready.  “I know these fuckers are bad, but this one in particular.” The… cave? Yeah, the cave that they hang out in smells like sizzling meat and Dean has done little but complain for the last two hours about how hungry he is.  Thankfully that's the easiest problem to solve: Sam will buy him a burger, fuck him in the shower, and they both fall asleep happy, boom boom boom.

 

Except they have to find a fucking witch first.

 

Which yes, sucks.

 

“If you stay quiet, you'll find her faster.” Sam smiles when he hears Dean mock him under his breath.  “That's better.”

 

Dean raises his left middle finger off the flashlight - alright, Sam deserved that one.

 

“Hey, wait a second.” Dean stops a step ahead of Sam and turns to where Sam points.  Through a rocky passage cut into the rock, they see flame and shadow moving across the wall.  A second passage is cut ten feet to the left, doubtless an alternate way out in case of emergency.

 

Dean raises his eyebrows and cocks his head towards their presumed quarry.  “Divide and conquer?”

 

“Ten four.”Sam takes the farther passage and creeps slowly, his flashlight off. He can see the witch well enough with the light her cauldron gives off; police footage had shown her as young, with striking brown eyes and raven hair.  Put her in a long dress and she could be anything from a librarian to a CEO.  Now she's ancient, haggard, her jowls hanging long and loose from her chin and her hair battleship gray.

 

True forms are so often hideous, and it holds true now.

 

Sam steps on a rock and it clatters as it rolls from under his foot and all of a sudden, the witch’s eyes are on him.

 

She screams, a horrible, grating cry, and casts some sort of lightning from her hands.  It causes a shelf of powders in jars next to Sam to explode as he rolls, ending up inhaling a great deal of whatever was in them.

 

Coughing, he brings up his gun and fires almost simultaneously with Dean.  Both shots miss.  The witch moves with incredible speed, flying at Sam as the cauldron explodes, lighting everything up as bright as a star for one second and then it's pitch black.

 

Sam's flashlight casts a now weak beam, and he looks through the smoking chaos for Dean.

 

“Sammy!”

 

Dean's to his left, probably twenty feet away.  Sam moves towards his voice, feeling for the ghostly cold space that means a witch is near.

 

Of course Dean has a hand out, groping for Sam and when Sam finds him, Dean ends up grabbing Sam's dick.

 

“Definitely Sammy.” Dean being Dean, he gives him a further squeeze before Sam bats his hand away.  

 

“Where'd she go?” Sam doesn't feel her, but she isn't dead.  That's a certainty.

 

“Throw out some of that witch-nip.”

 

That's not the name for it, but Sam's Polish isn't that great - so they call it witch-nip.  Sam scatters some through the air from his pocket and all it takes is a little bit to light upon the witch's presence a few feet away.

 

Two deadeye shots light her up - and then make the air around them crackle with rapidly imploding supernatural energy.

 

Dean grabs Sam's arm and pulls. “Time to go?”

 

“Yep.”

 

They nearly fall over each other getting out of the cave, rocks and dust falling behind and around them.  Dean's hair is nearly turned white from the limestone in the cave, to the point of looking like a particularly sexy version of Casper.

 

Dean grunts when Sam helps him dust off his ass.

 

“Your help is unnecessary but appreciated.” Dean grins, showing rock dust in his teeth.

 

“Damn right it is - burger and a shower?”Sam does his best to knock the dirt off - although he's still mostly covered in what was in those jars.  Whatever it was, it's making his skin feel a little too warm for comfort.  It'll probably wash off in the shower.

 

“Sign me the fuck up.”Dean stuffs his pistol in the back of his jeans and opens the car door, started up and rumbling by the time Sam's in on the other side.

 

Not two minutes down the road, Sam starts to feel a great deal of tightness in his lower body.  At first he tries to ignore it, far more interested in the journey Dean's hand is making up his thigh. (Dean's always handsy after they successfully gank a monster, to Sam’s eternal delight.)

 

Dean gets closer to his crotch, eying Sam out of his peripheral vision.  “Why don’t you get that big fuckin’ cock out for me, baby boy?”  Impatient, Dean finds Sam’s cock where it’s pointing down his leg-

 

Sam comes so fucking hard that he almost screams at the top of his lungs, his entire lower body feeling like he just stepped into a fire.  Dean jerks the car off to the side of the road and slams it into park, his hands on Sam’s body as quickly as he can get them there.

 

“Sam - what the  _ fuck?” _

 

The orgasm ends and Sam opens his eyes, finding the world blurry through tears he didn’t know would come.  “I… fuck, I don’t fucking know, Dean.”  Tentatively, Sam unbuckles his seatbelt and lifts up his shirt, his skin hyper-sensitive where the tips of his fingers graze it.  Externally, he sees no damage, save for a deep reddening of his body that comes with orgasm.  Dean’s eyes are on him like a hawk, enraptured not only by Sam’s abs but also showing a great deal of concern.

 

Sam’s hands are shaking far too badly to get his pants undone - he needs to check and make sure that the  _ only  _ thing that came out of his cock was spunk.

 

“I need you to get my pants down.”  He’s surprised that he can string those words together, much less get them out coherently.  “And save your ‘you come too easy’ jokes for later - something ain’t right.” 

 

Dean still has an eager gleam in his eye anyway.  

 

Carefully, Dean gets Sam’s belt and pants undone - just the slide of fabric over his thighs hardens his dick again and nine times out of ten, he’s not aware of how wet he gets until Dean’s making strings with his precome - this time, he may as well be soiling himself it’s so strong.  That definitely hasn’t happened before.

 

“Holy  _ fucking shit. _ ”  Dean inspects the inside of Sam’s underwear, moving his head so that he can show Sam just how much come has soaked him.  “It’s… it’s all down your pants leg.  And on, well fuck, baby boy, it went  _ through your goddamn jeans. _ ”  He tries to pull the fabric up, intent on showing Sam.  Instead, he ends up brushing his hand against Sam’s still-very-much-hard-and-leaking cock.  It nearly sends Sam into cardiac arrest, his dick pulsing threateningly - like hell if he’s going to make a fucking mess of himself because of one  _ miniscule  _ contact.

 

“Great, just… fucking great.”  Sam bites the inside of his cheek as he feels Dean’s breath ghost over his cock, even though Dean’s face is nowhere near it.  “We need to get back to the hotel.  Fast.”

 

Dean’s expression turns downtrodden - it’s obvious to anyone that he’s having an incredibly difficult time keeping his hands off of Sam.  “Look, I didn’t see blood or anything - ain’t gotta rush.”

 

“Yeah, do you feel  _ this _ ?”  Sam grabs Dean’s hand and puts it to his chest, letting him feel his heart thudding hard enough to power a battleship.  “This isn’t good.”  He gestures down to his cock, which is now fucking bobbing with every heartbeat.  Dean’s attention is promptly drawn to it, and Sam has to forcibly bring Dean’s gaze back to meet his own.  “That’s not good either.”

 

Dean opens his mouth, closes it again, looks at Sam’s cock (which is about to come again, no matter how badly Sam doesn’t want to) and then back up into space.  “This… wasn’t happening before, was it?”

 

Sam honestly wants to smack him.  “Dean, in all the years you’ve been handling my junk, have I  _ ever  _ come like that?”

 

Dean ponders a moment, and Sam watches his face as his thoughts work.  “Uh… no.  Maybe something in the witch’s lair?” At that realization, Dean’s 

lust is displaced with concern.  “Fuck, yeah, we need to go.”  Dean pulls them back out onto the road and that’s a mistake, because as he accelerates the rumble from the engine goes straight up through Sam’s ass and makes his balls tingle - like they weren’t enough already.

 

Sam has to clench his fists to stop himself, only for his concentration to be broken as Dean swerves back into their lane, barely missing an oncoming eighteen wheeler.

 

“ _ Dean - don’t look at my fucking cock and fucking drive. _ ”

 

Dean mostly succeeds - Sam spends the rest of the ride back to the hotel conjuring up every disgusting image he has to see if he can suppress his dick into cooperating.

 

He lasts just long enough to get into the room, not even bothering to get his pants all the way back up.  Dean’s gracious enough to keep him upright as Sam leaves another gigantic load all over the carpet just inside the door.  He has his eyes closed through it but he knows it goes far, farther than either himself or Dean have ever managed.

 

“Okay, but if whatever’s going on ain’t immediately life-threatening, I’m helping.”  He gets Sam over to the bed and Sam gratefully takes off his shoes and ruined clothing, leaving him in just his flannel and t-shirt.  Dean starts to drop to his knees between Sam’s legs and gets re-routed to reach for Sam’s laptop.

 

“Find out what’s going on first - and I swear to God if the answer is ‘fucking it out of my system,’ you do  _ not  _ get to gloat.”  Sam’s starting to sweat profusely now but he’s far more concerned with having another orgasm if it doesn’t kill him.

 

Dean nods, touching as much of Sam as possible without actually doing so as he sits down on the floor next to Sam’s legs.  “Uh… witches and orgasms sounds like a good place to start, right?”

 

Sam just nods, propped on his elbows as he watches his cock drool precome all over his shirt - he’ll have to get Dean to pull that off, too.  He’s seeing veins he didn’t even know he had, swollen madly under his skin and pulsing with blood.  His foreskin’s pulled so far back that just the air conditioning is lighting up his nerves and really, Dean continually glancing at him is  _ not  _ helping.

 

“Okay, found something - but my German isn’t too good.”

 

_ Of course it’s in a foreign language. _

 

“Show me.”  Sam leans towards the laptop, translating out loud as he reads.  “Witches will use a mix of goat weed, honeysuckle, and fertility spells to create a potent powder designed for the purpose of breeding and growing their numbers.  If large amounts are consumed, then the victim will be subject to an exponentially heightened state of arousal and climax.”

 

Alright, that’s accurate.

 

“Sexual intercourse will abate the effects of regular dosage and return the victim to a regular state of being.”  Sam sighs, and lets his head fall back.  “So basically, we have to fuck it out.”

 

Dean shoves the laptop aside and knocks Sam’s legs further open.  “You really don’t know how much I-”

 

“What, Dean?”  Sam looks down at him, Dean’s face hidden behind his dick.  “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

 

Dean shrugs, no shame anywhere to be found.  “Look, this satisfies about ten different fantasies.”  Dean gets closer, his lips millimeters away from the underside of Sam’s now actually painfully hard cock.  “Always been a fuckin’ come machine but  _ goddamn  _ this isn’t bad.  At all.”

 

“How can you-”  Whatever protest Sam had is blasted away by the stupefying sensation of Dean’s mouth on the head of his dick, further enhanced by the  _ goddamn slurping  _ he’s doing as he laps up all of the precome that’s run down off of his balls.  Dean’s always been a messy cocksucker but this is a five star performance even for him - Sam can’t tear his eyes away as he watches Dean go to town on him, perfectly content with the world, even though he’s still got cave gunk in his hair.

 

Dean pulls off, and Sam whimpers - he was about to fucking come  _ again  _ and he really wanted it to be in Dean’s mouth that time.  “You taste like fucking honey.”

 

“Dean, don’t…”  Sam’s brain is still fogged with all of those amazing sensations he was just feeling, and hearing that from Dean’s mouth isn’t helping.  “Don’t fuck with me.”

 

“No -  _ seriously. _ ”  Dean strokes a fat glob of pre from Sam’s dick and starts to shove it towards Sam’s mouth.

 

“Not with your dirty fingers.”  He doesn’t need to catch anything else - why he’s worried about that now is a mystery.

 

Dean rolls his eyes and instead, gathers some up on his tongue, holding Sam’s dick steady while he does.  

 

Kissing Dean is a mistake.  Not in the “I can’t believe I’m macking with my brother” way (that stopped being an issue a  _ long  _ time ago) but in the “come all over yourself as soon as their lips touch” sense - because that’s exactly what happens.  Dean spends about two seconds showing Sam that yes, he does indeed taste like honey before another world-splitting orgasm shakes him down to his bones, painting what of him Dean’s arm and shoulder don’t catch white.

 

Dean, of course, is thrilled.

 

“See?  Told you.”  He runs his fingers through the mess of come on Sam’s belly and sucks on them greedily, laying on his side and putting his arm around Sam’s shoulders.  It’s cuddly, in a way, but Sam’s too busy thrashing with aftershocks to notice.

 

“You.. naked.”

 

“You got it, baby.”  Dean jumps off the bed and strips fast, glee lighting up his features as he looks down at Sam's come soaked form.  He finishes helping Sam out of his clothes, and once they’re both as bare as the day they were born, straddles Sam’s hips.

 

“Tell me what you want, Sammy.  Fuckin whatever you want, baby boy, goddamn  _ anything. _ ”  Dean’s kissing his jaw and already stroking his cock again, making Sam’s foreskin bunch up between the tight grip of his thumb and forefinger.  Sam’s brain is at a fault for picking an option, so he just says “use your mouth.”

 

It’s not the wisest thing to say, because Dean goes right for one of his hot spots. He cuddles up to Sam’s side and drops his head to his chest, biting and sucking at his left nipple while he works the other with his free hand, causing Sam’s entire body to shake.  Dean knows every fucking one of his light-ups and latching to his chest like this, God, it’s fucking  _ heaven,  _ capped off with the rough pad of his thumb over the crown of his cock, pushing down and rubbing on the spongy flesh every time his fingers come back up.  

 

Sam doesn’t last long under that assault, and both he and Dean get  _ covered -  _ the orgasm is the most intense so far and when it’s over, Sam’s actually crying and clutching what of Dean he can reach, his lower body spasming so hard it feels like he’s being punched, only for a pleasure so great to wash through him when it’s over that it makes him feel seasick.

 

Dean looks up, the left side of his face covered with come.  “That is so fucking  _ hot. _ ”  He rubs Sam’s come all over his belly and cock, squelching it so that it sounds loudly crude.  Then again, neither one of them have ever been much for finesse.

 

“More.”  Sam finds himself thrusting up into Dean’s hand, seeking friction that the mess of come on Dean’s fingers isn’t making easy to find.  “God, just  _ more. _ ”  

 

Dean can gloat later that he’s not able to form more words.

 

Dean kisses him again, swirling his tongue around Sam’s and sucking it out of his mouth before he breaks, encouraging Sam to scoot up the bed so that they aren’t halfway hanging off of it.  He can hardly move for his limbs being slack but he manages - what little energy he’s mustered is dashed when Dean jams his tongue right into the slit of his cock, sucking hard enough to make Sam’s eyes cross.

 

“Don’t fucking stop.”

 

Dean hums agreement as he swallows Sam down as far as he can manage, and the vibration makes Sam nearly jump out of his skin.  Every nerve in his body is firing off right now, tiny little explosions happening one right behind the other.  He sees starpoints on the backs of his eyelids, bright enough to blind him and reach for Dean’s hair as an anchor.

 

Dean comes up coughing, trails of spit and spunk connecting his mouth to Sam's cock. “Fucking shit, Sammy, swear that shit made you bigger - can't hardly keep you down.” Dean licks his lips and smacks them, getting as much of Sam's honey sweet taste as he can.

 

Between that and Dean's voice all rough from his cock, Sam doesn't have much resistance against coming again - only this time, Dean is there to catch as much as he can. Half of it splashes out of Dean's mouth because seriously, it's  _ a lot  _ but the rest goes down easy, Dean stroking it out of him with these incredible twisting motions right down his throat.  

 

“Incredible, baby boy.” Dean gets up from between his legs and kisses Sam, mouth still full of jizz and by now, far more aroused than Sam thought his unfortunate circumstance would make him.  “You are gonna fucking fill me up so good.”

 

Sam finally manages to put together a few choice words. “This is insane.” His voice doesn't have much power left to it and everything from his ribcage down feels like it's trying to exit his body through the end of his cock. “But I absolutely want to fuck your brains out.  Don't fucking move.”

 

Sam sits up and keeping Dean in his lap, gets the lube from under the pillow and spends ten loud, wet minutes fingering him open, punctuated every couple of seconds by Dean biting and sucking on his bottom lip.  He ends up with four fingers down to the knuckles inside Dean, making both of them squirm and smear enough bodily fluids around that the sheets beneath them are completely ruined.

 

Dean gets impatient and raises himself up on his feet, his ass hovering right over Sam’s cock.  “Ready?”   
  


“Says he who isn’t leaving me much choice - fucking do it, Dean.”

 

Dean wasn’t kidding about him being bigger; what’s normally a comfortably tight fit becomes a chore for both of them - Dean has to stop halfway down and bury his face in Sam’s neck for a moment,  _ so fucking big  _ repeated over and over again as Sam tries not to come before he’s all the way in.  He thought he’d hit the apex of sensation when Dean had blown him but this sends him reeling, enough to make him start crying against his own volition.

 

Gravity takes care of the rest, and Dean’s pulled right down to the root. They cling to each other in a messy tangle of arms and legs, Sam’s body so slick with sweat and come that it’s hard to keep Dean in one place.

Sam feels Dean’s hard cock against his belly and realizes that not once this whole time has he touched Dean.  He’s drooling an insane amount of precome too, not as much as Sam but definitely enough to indicate he’s been neglected.  

 

“Sorry I forgot about your cock, babe.”  Sam get his right hand around it and pulls Dean’s foreskin all the way back, rubbing him just behind the head the way Dean likes.  “But you kind of… well…”

 

“Not a word, Sammy -  _ I  _ forgot about my cock.”  Dean moans and melts as Sam jerks him off slowly, grinding his dick up into Dean’s body.  It’s deep, yes, but it’s not enough motion - and Sam knows that this last orgasm will either cure him or kill him.  Time to move things along.

 

“Grab hold of me.”

 

Dean holds onto him as tightly as he can and with an effort Sam didn’t know he was capable of right now, lifts them both off the bed, using nothing but his thighs, still very much inside Dean as he lowers him to the floor head-first, positioned ass up and legs thrown wide to either side of his body.

 

In all honesty, the look on Dean’s face couldn’t be happier.  Jackhammer isn’t a position they pull off often but the… altered circumstances call for it.  Dean wants to be filled up?  Sam can’t think of a better way to do it.

 

Dean puts his arms out to either side for stabilization and looks up at Sam, biting his lip and squeezing his ass around Sam’s cock.  “Breed my ass, Sammy, fucking fill me up until you can’t anymore.”

 

Even upside down, Dean’s a bossy bottom.  

 

Sam starts to fuck him, trying his best to not focus on his swollen cock reaming Dean’s body open.  He holds into Dean’s ankles, keeping them as far apart as he dares.  His vision is blocked by the curtain of his hair, hanging loose by his face and curling against his sweaty neck and cheeks.  Finding a rhythm takes a while from this angle but once he does, 

 

“Yeah, that’s it baby boy, fuck me with that fuckin’ horse cock.”  Dean adjusts his body so that he can jerk himself off, cock pointed at his face.  “Want that fuckin’ load  _ everywhere.” _

 

Dean, fuck, Dean, I’m so fucking  _ close.”  _ Sam feels it, ripping up from the soles of his feet and shooting up his spine - this is going to knock him flat, he can already tell.  “Dean, Dean,  _ Deannnnn-” _

 

Sam starts coming on the way out and for five full seconds his come shoots out in a continuous stream, soaking Dean from forehead to chest and running down into his open mouth.  Just watching it makes Dean come in a shotgun burst, stripping his cock furiously as he sputters from just how much goes in his mouth.  Sam can’t bear to touch himself, the contractions of his orgasm so powerful that he douses the floor around Dean as well.

 

Very little of it actually ends up inside Dean’s body - on it is a worthy substitute, Sam supposes.

 

Dean lowers his legs once Sam finally collapses back onto the bed, shaking hard and pulling for breath like he’s been deprived of oxygen.  Dean sucks the last few drops out of him, come dripping off of his nose and chin.  Sam tries to reach, fails, and cries out sharply enough to get Dean’s attention.

 

“You are a fucking  _ champ. _ ”  Dean sits on his belly and kisses him, cradling his face in his hands and letting Sam taste - even his come tastes like honey.  “But I think you need water.  Lots of it.”

 

Sam nods and tries to smile.  “Clean yourself up first - I’m not going anywhere.”

 

He’s asleep by the time Dean returns, his body finally lapsing back into a state of normality.  He’s vaguely aware of Dean cleaning him up but the sensations don’t penetrate deep enough to bring him back to a conscious state of mind.

 

It’s dark when he awakens.

 

Dean’s next to him, watching television with his head on Sam’s shoulder and his arm possessively thrown over Sam’s chest.

“I’m alive.”  Sam picks his head up and looks down - Dean did at least put some underwear on him, the softest pair of boxers he owns.  “And you…”

 

“Spent a lot of time eating come.  And jerking off.”  Dean still looks flushed - but supremely happy.  “I wasn’t quite done after you passed out - your cock stayed hard for another hour.”

 

The thought of Dean riding his dick while unconscious… turns him on more than he’d like to admit.  “Glad I could be of service - I feel weird.  Like… you know how your junk feels after you use a vibrator?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Like that.  Except all over.”  The numbness isn’t bad, just odd.  He can deal, though, because the burning sensation is gone now.  “I didn’t mean to get into that stuff, by the way.”

 

“Didn’t figure that you had - how exactly did it get in your system?”  Dean snuggles up a little closer and moves his hand to Sam’s stomach.

 

“She hurled a spell at me and it broke a jar.  I breathed in a couple lungfuls.”  Sam’s breath is still rattling a little but it’s no great discomfort.  Still better than what he was experiencing before.

 

Dean looks reflective for a moment, idly tracing the hair of Sam’s treasure trail.  “So… you’re saying that a smaller dosage could… maybe make this happen to a lesser extent.”

 

“Dean - no.”

 

“Aw c’mon Sammy - don’t you want to try it at least  _ one  _ more time?”

  
Come to think of it, Dean’s face does improve a great deal when it’s covered in spunk... 


End file.
